Hope. It tends to sneak up on me in the most normal of moments; a welcome surprise.
It looks like this. Walking home from a run around Wash Park with a couple of new friends, the gorgeous weather speaking of lovely things to come, and life is full of possibility. Hope.
Sitting at a coffee shop, drinking a delicious latte. Sitting, watching Pearl Street through the window and feeling at home. Hope.
At dinner with old friends, bellies full of delicious food and laughter. I realize that I am completely comfortable in my own skin among these people. Hope.
Walking through my backyard to the door, smelling the rain. Noticing how it makes everything greener, and somehow new. Hope.
I love those moments. They are my focus and my fuel.
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